Review of The Love We Found by Jill Santopolo
There’s something undeniably magnetic about a sequel, especially when it follows a story that resonated deeply. After devouring BK Borison’s delightful rom-com First-Time Caller—featuring the endearing Lucie—I was craving more heartfelt narratives. Enter The Love We Found by Jill Santopolo, a follow-up to the beautiful The Light We Lost. With such a powerful predecessor, my excitement was palpable, but as I turned the pages, I found myself grappling with unexpected feelings.
At the heart of The Love We Found is Lucy, navigating the turbulent waters of grief almost a decade after losing her love, Gabe. As I immersed myself in her story, a curious sense of déjà vu washed over me. Why did Lucy’s journey feel so familiar? Perhaps it was because her name mirrored that of the delightful Lucie I’d just met, but more so because both characters’ paths were steeped in love and loss. I found myself immersed in the duality of romance: the exuberance of new love against the shadows of past heartache.
However, I must confess my struggle to connect with Lucy’s journey. While I appreciated the breadth of themes—love, loss, marriage, and perceived failures—the execution felt forced. Lucy’s pleas to be healed resonated deeply, and yes, I wanted that for her! But I couldn’t escape the feeling that her healing process was constructed rather than organic. The conversations with Gabe—her "dead" love—felt more like conversations propped up by the author rather than genuine expressions of grief. I often felt like a bystander, observing rather than engaging.
The pacing, while brisk due to the short chapters, left me yearning for more depth, more introspection. Instead, I found the moments with Dax, the new spark in Lucy’s life, unfolding in an expected manner. The chemistry seemed dictated rather than developed, which left me detached from what should have been pivotal moments of heartbreak and hope. I craved the heart-pounding emotions that were so beautifully woven into The Light We Lost, but found only whispers of that brilliance here.
One standout moment for me was when Lucy confided in a friend, desperately seeking clarity in her messy emotional landscape. It was a poignant reminder of how real life often intertwines love and loss, joy and despair. While that moment husked open the door to authenticity, I found the rest of the experiences lacking that same warmth—I wanted to feel the ‘swoon’ that others seemed to revel in.
As I reflect on my reading experience, I realize I might be an outlier in my feelings about this book. For those who appreciate a more straightforward narrative without the emotional depth of Santopolo’s earlier work, The Love We Found may hit the mark. However, for readers like me who crave a connection that feels visceral, it may leave you feeling a sense of longing; longing for more chemistry, more heart, and a deeper journey of healing.
In conclusion, while The Love We Found didn’t land as I hoped, it might still resonate with those looking for tales of resilience and the intricacies of moving forward after loss. Each book is a different journey, and I’m grateful for the exploration, even if it was a bumpy ride this time. For me, it serves as a reminder of the beautifully messy nature of life—sometimes the healing stories we seek don’t unfold in ways we anticipate.